


The Only Chirping On This Ranch Comes From Birds

by jammytoast



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Anal Sex, Coach Bittle is a bigot, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Horses, M/M, Minific, Panic Attack, Pining, Sort of a Brokeback Mountain vibe but also totally different, only a little in the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7394845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jammytoast/pseuds/jammytoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Eric Richard Bittle, in the Deep South of Georgia, has to welcome seven preppy northerners to help tend to his ranch, he meets none other than Jack Zimmermann. For some reason he can't get over the stupid, beautiful idiot who can't tell the difference between sprinkler and micro irrigation, but somehow knows everything else. They learn a lot from each other.</p><p>note: the explicit rating is because there will be smut in a later chapter, just not yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> This is the "pilot" chapter to see if people like this idea. I had several versions in my head. If you don't like this, let me know, and I'll do one where Bitty moves to the city to be Jack's intern. Or maybe I'll do it anyway, just comment below. Anyway, this will have short chapters, and I'll just update randomly. Also, some things aren't 100% canonical, but it shouldn't be that much... Questions? Concerns? No? Enjoy.

Sweat dripped down Eric's forehead in the heat of the Georgia summer. He swiped a tanned hand across to rid the moisture from his skin. “There ya go, buddy.” He dumped a bucket of chicken giblets and compost vegetables into the long, metal bucket. The big, pot bellies scrambled towards the trough to fight for the slop. Eric quickly walked out the fence and secured the metal clasp behind him.

Next on the agenda was feeding the horses, tilling the garden, then checking on the goats and sheep. Also, the alpacas needed to be shaven. The barn door was broken, and one of the cows got spooked and ran through the barbed fence. Eric was overwhelmed to say the least. “Ma did not have enough kids to tend to this big of a ranch," he muttered to himself in a soft drawl.

“Dicky! Daisy’s hooves need new shoes sometime this week!”

Eric just sagged. There wasn't enough time in the day to do everything that needed to be done. By the time the sun set over the trees, he was completely worn. 

He decided that a break was in order. He went inside through the screen door and poured a tall glass of sweet tea from the pitcher. He plucked five sugar cubes from a plastic bag with half closed eyes and plopped them into the drink, taking a swig immediately.

“Dicky, those are for the horses.”

He waved his mom off, not having enough energy to care, "oh well. Where’s Dad?”

“He was gonna send some of the pigs off for slaughter, but you know him, sometimes he just isn't up for it. He’s harvesting some wheat instead. Maybe I'll make some spice bread," she mused.

“No need, I was just gonna make some pie.” 

She frowned, “we’ve got an apple pie and blackberry cobbler in the fridge, hon’.”

“Pie and cobbler are obviously two completely different things, Ma.”

“Oh, never mind. Anyway, I have some good news for you, I’m thinkin’ you'll be real excited.”

“What's that?”

“I know this season we’ve had the most work cut out for us, so since your dad and I are gonna be pretty damn busy for the rest of the summer, we thought we’d hire a team to help you out.”

Eric almost choked on his tea. “You’re kidding me. How? It's almost a month into the season, any good hand has already found a ranch-.”

“Well that's the catch. Your dad and I looked everywhere and got the last of the pickings. They look like they'll be hard workers though.”

He nodded a few times before looking up, “what's their story?”

“Well from what I know, they're looking for some summer work to fulfill some scholarship or credit, or maybe for some extra money. They're a bunch of kids from Samwell University, up in Massachusetts. Maybe they thought it would be a fun team-bonding thing to do over the summer? Beats me.”

“Jesus-.” He crossed his legs and leaned against the counter-top, with a palm posed over his face. It was most likely covering a hopeless expression.

“Watch it, Dicky.”

“Ma, you hired a bunch of preps to help! I thought you were trying to make this easier on me.”

The issue was, that, his parents made a lot of money off of the ranch. Fresh supplies sell for a lot, if done right. (They did everything more than just 'right'). Eric got small fractions of the profit, while doing all the work and being doomed to farm care for the remainder of his life. Eric could see himself doing other things, however. He wanted to get married and maybe open a pie shop. Or he could imagine moving away from the work he was so good at, perhaps far west or up north. 

“Alright. I mean I guess I could use the help no matter how… posh, they are.” His face was still twisted up in distaste. 

“Alright. Well, the seven of them are coming to stay with us next week.”

“Oh, you forgot to mention that it's the seven dwarfs coming to help. I really hope they whistle while they work. It would be real charming," He rolled his eyes and took another long sip from the tea.

Eric’s mom gave him a little swat on the shoulder as she exited the kitchen. 

“Now, now. The boys will stay in the guest house obviously, but we’ll have one across the hall from you and another near the other side of the house.”

“Really? In the house?” Jack sank to the floor and clasped his hands dramatically on his mom’s flannel. “What if they mess up my kitchen? I can't make pies over a bonfire, Ma.”

“Eric Richard Bittle, quit the dramatics and suck it up. Be grateful. I'd be surprised if these boys even know what a kitchen does anyway.” 

She giggled at her own joke on the way out, but to Eric, the statement did nothing but terrify.


	2. The Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pilot 2.0 Not a lot of action yet, just the boys getting situated in their new home for the summer. It is definitely not the Haus.

A week passed on without as much as the blink of an eye. Eric still worked as much as he did any other day, but with the promise of help, it was almost as if he tired faster. The sun became too hot and the buckets grew too heavy. Well also… Eric was small. He was a small, blonde Georgian boy, as innocent as they come. So even though he'd worked up a great deal of muscle, there was still only so much his body could handle. 

This is exactly why he was a little dumbstruck when his parents piled the seven boys out of their two pickups. All he got when they introduced themselves were strange nicknames - that they insisted upon being called, even the guy named “Shitty,” who his mom was pretty taken aback by - and the observation that they were men. Like, not some ordinary guy you see every day on the streets. When someone says the word “man,” you imagine these guys.

The nicknames that appealed to them the most were obviously Ransom and Holster, the inseparable pair of besties that honestly went together like bread and jam considering the nicknames sounded like 'cowboy words'. Eric’s dad was a total Texan (retired Texas ranger/football & hockey coach), so he appreciated it a lot. 

Bitty scrubbed the dirt from his gloves onto his jeans, then resorted to just taking them off. “Hi, I’m Eric Bittle, welcome.” At this point he couldn't tell if his smile was fake or not. Eric shook each of their hands and got a pretty quick judgement on who they were. Unfortunate news for his ego, they weren't too preppy after all, but ranch life was still going to be a kick in the gut. He acquainted himself with Shitty, the mustached and long haired man that looked like he should be on a magazine for the Wild West, aside from his job aspiration: a lawyer. He already met Ransom and Holster, they were as goofy as the rest, and also, a single unit. Then there was Dex and Nursey, who seemed like they were the same, but claimed they had too many differences. Who knows. There was also Chowder, one of the more gangly guys, but also the most excited seeming. Eric cynically thought about how quickly that eagerness was going to go down the drain. Lastly there was Jack… Plain ol’ Jack Zimmermann. All he really got from him was: plays Hockey and is French Canadian.

Each man shook his hand and politely affirmed their gratitude for the opportunity to work with him. 

“I was fixin’ to show them around, but if you wanna take care of it then by all means,” Eric's mom didn't even give him a choice before she was waltzing out of the room.

“Oh yeah, okay, great! Come on guys, let's put your bags away first. For starters, who are the lucky two staying in the house?” Eric peered at his mini audience. 

Everyone pointed to Jack and Chowder. “They’ve got dibs!” 

He paused,“dibs? You know what, I don't care how it works. Follow me then.” They all trudged behind Eric with wheeley suitcases and bodies adorned with way too many layers of clothing considering the heat… Northerners. The word was poison on his tongue.

He swung open the front door of the cottage style house and first led them left. “Right here is the kitchen, if you use it, you treat it like its your child. The family room is right across from it, along with a half bathroom over there,” he flitted his hands in gesture, “There's a library slash office off to the side, but more importantly, to the left is my parents room which is across from…” Eric randomly pointed to, “Chowder!”

He glanced up, “Alright!” He fist pumped the air and dropped his bags inside on the bed. Yeah, he was a little too excited to be staying in a room that's existed since before the Great Depression.

“Now, on the other side of the house is my room and the guest room, which would make that belong to…” he trailed off, forgetting which one ‘Jack’ was. 

The one with the dark hair and crystal blue eyes shyly raised a hand. “Right! Okay, so this one has a Jack and Jill bathroom so I suppose we’ll work that out later. Guess that would make me Jill,” they all stared. Eric thought he heard crickets, “Anyway, you're right in there,” Eric waved him towards the creaky, old bed that’s resided in that room since the dawn of time. 

“Thanks,” Jack muttered, slowly walking in and dropping his duffel bag onto the wool blanket that adorned the sheets. 

When he met back up with the guys, Eric was on his way out the door to the house where everyone else would be staying. It was basically a little cabin with some guest rooms, bathrooms, and a living area. When Eric was a kid, those rooms didn't exist. Instead it was a fortress. Now, it felt as though his fortress was being invaded by ogres. Although, that was if he put it harshly.

“Well, the tour is done. We’ll be getting up bright and early tomorrow morning to work. Be ready to go by 6:00, and don't even think about complaining because some days we'll be in the fields by 5:30. Also, be prepared to get your hands dirty and learn a thing or two." Eric perched his hands on his small hips, "Alrighty, go ahead and get settled. Chowder and Jack can follow me.”

The boys burst into chatter on their way to the couches in the guest cabin’s family room.  
Eric smiled to himself; as much as he was bitter about having inexperienced workers, giving tours was definitely a passion. So much that for a second, it seemed worth it. 

Jack and Chowder followed behind Eric quietly. Occasionally, Chowder would ask a question like, “What kinds of animals are there?” or “Do we get to drive the trucks?” In these cases, Eric would kindly respond, “lots” or “we’ll see about that.” Honestly, he could've said “absolutely not” and it wouldn't have killed Chowders sheer excitement. 

When they all got back into the house, Eric leaned up against the counter, gesturing towards the dining table chairs for the other two guys. 

“Can I offer y'all something to drink? Sweet tea? Coke?” Before they could answer Eric gasped, “Oh! I just made a pecan pie, I’ll getcha some.” 

He pulled out two plates and forks, and cut a piece of pie for each of them. He set it gently on the table in front of the boys, accompanying it with a glass of sweet tea. Everything went good with sweet tea. 

Chowder dug into the pie, “Wow, I've never cared much for pecans, but this is great!” He shoveled another bite into his mouth. 

Eric beamed at the compliment. “Thank you.” 

Jack took a small bite and grinned lightly, “Chowder isn't lying, this is good.” 

“I appreciate it. I’m got a little of a… knack for baking, I guess.” He glanced down at their untouched glasses, “do you want something else to drink..?”

Jack scratched his elbow, “Sorry, I uh-. We don't really do sweet tea up in Massachusetts. It's a little too sweet.”

“Oh of course, sorry, I guess sometimes I just forget. You know, I've never been up North. I hear people are real standoffish up there. How about some water?” They smiled in response, allowing Eric to feel useful in snatching up the glasses and replacing their contents with ice water. 

“So, y'all play Hockey at Samwell?”

“Yeah! Our team is really great. In fact, Jack here is our Captain.” Chowder patted him on the bicep. His very… muscular bicep. Eric glanced down at his own spaghetti noodle arms and frowned.

“That's… cool. I’m gonna be honest, I’ve only seen the team my dad used to coach play Hockey. He’d be the one you wanna talk to about that stuff. But sometimes in the late winter, the lakes up in the mountain will freeze, and we’ll skate out there. I don't do a lot of hockey playing though. I find myself better with spins and such. Figure skating I guess. Though I'd never sat that around Pa," he giggled.

Jack looked like he was about to say something, but Chowder, with a mouth full of pie, exclaimed, “Ooh yeah! We’ve got an awesome lake to play on in the winter. Gosh I can't imagine how swawesome that is in the mountains!” 

Eric didn't mention anything about his made up word. “Sure, yeah.” His mind sort of trailed off and the other guys didn't seem to notice, continuing the conversation off to the side. 

“Well, I suppose y'all can make yourselves at home. Though, I guess it's getting late. Jack, do you wanna work out the bathroom situation?” Eric bit his lip nervously for some reason and jerked his thumb back towards the right side of the house. 

“Sure,” he said, pulling himself up from the table and following behind Eric, to his room. 

“You can just come in through my room-”

“You have a giant Carey Price poster.” Jack stared with glistening eyes.

“Oh, that thing? Yeah I don't know much else than that he plays for the Canadiens.”

“Really? He’s their goalie actually, he's incredible. Why do you have it?” He went up to it and put his hand on the signature. 

“My dads a big hockey fan, so it makes him happy to see me proudly displayin' it,” Eric went over and started to lift a corner, revealing another poster underneath. “I actually use it to hide my Beyoncé poster. My dad would kill me if he saw it," Jack gave a little laugh and shook his head.

An unreadable expression flashed over Jack’s eyes. “Oh. Right.” His hand dropped from the poster and he continued to follow Eric to the joint bathroom.

“I'll take the right sink and you can take the left. I’m fine with you putting your stuff wherever. Towels are in this cabinet,” he swung one open, “and the shower is through that door. The lock is broken, but nobody’ll go in if they hear water running. I hope you don't mind this arrangement.”

“It's perfect, thank you Eric. I’m going to go get my stuff put away. I'll see you in the morning.” Jack robotically turned through the door to his new temporary room and let it click shut behind himself.

Before it closed, he made a little face that looked like it was supposed to be a smile, but didn't really come out that way. Eric just nodded and turned back into his own room, shutting the door behind himself as well.


	3. The Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get horseback riding lessons, and Jack is the guinea pig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell if I just wrote a poorly written virtual horseback riding lesson or the next chapter of my fic. Either way, please don't lose hope for this series. It's going to take even some lead up to get to the pining. This will probably be the most informative chapter considering horses are more interesting than irrigation systems and farming machinery. I'll try harder not to bore you. Anyway, I've seen the first few comments and they are very lovely, so I will continue writing! As for my other fic idea, maybe expect that after this one? (;

He may have sometimes looked like it, but Eric Richard Bittle was not a weak man. So even though he knew more about ranching than any of them, it was still difficult to not be a little intimidated.

At the moment, Eric had a half circle of sleepy, incorrectly dressed college boys stood before him. He cleared his throat and clapped his hands. “Okay, let’s get the day started. So far, y’all know nothin’ about being a ranch hand. I am planning on changing that. In the next two weeks I am going to be by your side making sure you learn how to do everything, and I mean everything. The first day you will mostly observe, but over the course of the next few weeks I better see major improvement. After that, we’re not paying ya full unless y’all can do everything on your own.” Eric blinked his eyes a little and stood up proud and tall. “Got it?”

All the boys nodded, maybe half of them listening. “Mr. Bittle, what should we call you?” Shitty asked, raising his hand.

“Shitty, I’m your age, you can just call me Eric.”

“I don’t know… It’s not really working for me.” He dramatically smacked his lips as if tasting the name on his palette. 

Holster raised an eyebrow and glanced surreptitiously at Ransom. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

After a short pause the two boys smiled and in unison, shouted, “Bitty!” They fist bumped in a very intricate way, laughing. “Bruh, we are too good at this,” Ransom replied, wiping a fake tear from under his eye.

“Guys, that’s not really necessary. That your thing, I-.”

“C’mon Bitty, it just feels right,” Nursey replied, stepping forward to give him a little nudge in the shoulder, which sort of sent him stumbling back. “Whoa, whoa, hang in there man,” Nurse steadied him with the same hand that pushed.

“Sorry, you just caught me off… uh, off guard. Anyway, call me whatever, just follow me. The first thing we’re doing today is going to be a key element to surviving the summer.”

“What is it?” Chowder yelled from the back, way too full of life for 6:00 a.m. 

“Follow me, and you’ll find out.” Bitty started walking away and let them all fall into step behind him. They walked down to the stables together, which was probably almost a mile itself. At least they were sporty guys, so it wasn’t like they couldn’t handle a little exercise. 

Once they reached the front of the barn doors, Bitty stopped the guys and huddled them together. “Today is probably your first ever horseback riding lesson. You better put your best foot forward too, because I’m getting behind on a lot of work to do this. By the end of the day, it better look like you’ve been doing this your whole life.”

“Alright, not such a bad plan if you ask me,” Dex smiled and rubbed his hands together.

“It’s Dex, right?” Eric asked. Dex nodded. “You’re right, this is the easier stuff, but mind me, it’s much harder than you think. Riding a horse is a lot more practiced than lifting a bucket of manure.” While Eric didn’t always want ranching to be his life, it was still everything he ever knew or cared about; nobody would get to undermine that. “First off, can anyone tell me what types of horses these are?” He gestured a hand down the line of eight horse stables in the barn. There was silence. “Okay, well we have three types of horses, and they each have their own job. Those three at the end are called Missouri Fox Trotters. I’m going to have all of you begin with them. Those guys give an easy, smooth ride and it’s pretty simple to understand each other. They’ll be used for day to day transportation to different parts of the ranch.

Those guys and gals further up are our stock horses. Y’all will ride them last because they are fast and furious. These guys are super smart, but they’re powerful as hell’s bells, so for now, just look. Make sure to notice how their hindquarters are a lot better built than the Fox Trotter. Then last, but not least, we have these two draft horses, They’re easier to tell apart because they have those skirts around their hooves. We use them for pulling and carting, which we don’t do with horses often. These guys are pretty great to ride thought, so they’ll be used to start too.” Bitty took a long look at their overwhelmed and confused faces and added, “And we haven’t even got to how to ride yet!”

They all laughed, and suddenly the mood was a lot lighter; Bitty didn’t look as much like a lecturing professor anymore. “So, who wants to be part of the demonstration? I’ll need one volunteer.”

Dex and Chowder’s hands shot up immediately, but Ransom and Holster were quick to shove Jack forward. “Why don’t we have Zimmermann give it a try, yeah?” 

Nursey chuckled, “Oh, I’m gonna love this.”

He glared at all of them, “I think I’m good. I don’t really do horses-.” His breath sort of picked up and the guys didn’t seem to notice anything wrong.

Bittle didn’t either, so he beckoned Jack over to the stall where he was untying the horse they were going to use to demonstrate. Jack slowly inched forwards until he was eye to eye with the horse, and suddenly he was backing up. 

“I-I I need a minute. I’m sorry uh, Bitty. Just-.” He gulped a breath of air and ran out of the end of the stables. Bitty saw how red his face looked and chased after him, a little worried that maybe he had something that he didn’t tell the Bittles about. The other guys just stood there guiltily, knowing what they triggered, but still not exactly knowing how to handle it. 

Shitty elbowed Ransom in the shoulder, “You fucking idiot, look what the hell happened!”

“Bruh, I thought it would just be funny to put him on the spot. I didn’t realize-” 

Shits sighed, “Yeah, I know. None of us realized. Should we go and help?”

“No, I mean, Bitty already went and I think more people will just overwhelm him.”

Bitty found Jack hunched over on a small bale of hay next to the barn doors with his wrists pressed against his temples. Bitty stepped forwards and reached a hand out to his forehead, which was brusquely swatted away.  
“Oh, I.” Bitty clutched his hand against his chest to keep it from invading his space again. “Are you okay, Jack?”

He glanced up, “It’s nothing. I swear I’m a fine worker. I’m just a little afraid of horses I guess. But I’ll be okay. I can ride the damn horse-.”

Bitty placed a reassuring hand on his thigh, “Hey. I get it, you don’t have to explain yourself. Just never feel afraid to ask for more help.” He began to ramble, “I mean I’m not asking you to like, tell me your life story but it would just be helpful to me to know how to handle you know, whatever is goin’ on. Plus I totally trust that you can handle this job, but I also get-.”

Jack cleared his throat and stood up abruptly. “Eric. It’s fine. Let’s just get this started, okay? I don’t want to waste any more time.” He brushed past Bitty on their way back into the stable. It felt cold. 

Bitty returned behind him and acted completely normal. “Okay y’all, so this guy’s name is Ace. He’s the best with newbies, so I’m just gonna walk him out. Follow behind.” He lead the horse out of the barn and onto the open, hilly fields. Jack stood off to the side, awkwardly awaiting instruction.

“C’mere Jack,” Bitty called, and pulled him over until he was standing next to the horse. “Oh! Also, next time don’t wear shorts and t-shirts. I know it’s hot, but think about all the grunt work you’ll be doing. Wear jeans and a flannel. Cowboys in movies don’t actually wear it just for presentation. The gettup serves a purpose.” He shook his head and places a hand over his running mouth, “Off topic. Anyway! To mount a horse you first check the girth, this is the little strap that keeps the saddle on. Obviously I already have it all tacked and bridled, so the girth should be fine, but always just make sure it’s comfortable. Next, pre-adjust the stirrups. It’s easier to get a hold of them from down here. Now I’m not giving you a mounting block because I don’t want to teach you to be dependent. So let’s just begin from here.” Eric took a hold of Jack's hand and guided it to the horse’s neck. “I want you to pet the horse and make sure that he is paying attention to you.”

“This isn’t so bad,” Jack murmured, trying to connect with the horse in order to calm his nerves.

“Perfect. So now take your left hand and place it on the reins, no not those, yes there. Don’t pull on Ace’s mouth, because even though he’s well trained, he still might spook. Next, place the opposite foot up onto the stirrups that we just adjusted. You may have to drop it to make it easier to reach, but I’m just gonna have you jump a little. Go ahead.” Jack placed a hand on his lower back to stable him as he jumped over onto the horse and seated himself in the saddle. 

Jack brushed Bitty off again, “I’m fine, I’ve got it.”

“Okay, okay. The thing in front of you is called the pommel, which you can grab for stability. Just don’t touch the back of the saddle. Now you’re officially mounted,” all the guys clapped their hands and laughed, watching Jack shift himself around. “This is the most basic style of mounting. You may occasionally see me mount with a leg-up when I use my western saddle, but we are definitely not there yet. Any questions?”

Nobody said anything. Well, except Chowder who asked, “when can I go?” and was shut down immediately. 

Eric really couldn’t help but say, “hold your horses,” back to him. 

Now, Bitty found himself actually getting excited. It felt good to teach his well-practiced skills to somebody else. In fact, he felt a bit more useful than usual (even though these boys would be impossible). He moved on to the most difficult step: actually riding and achieving different gaits. 

“Please be patient on this one, Jack. If you start something too fast you might end up with the wrong gait and lose control. Hold on for a sec.” He put up a finger and ran back into the stable, grabbing another Fox Trotter as fast as possible and guiding her out next to Ace. “This is Daisy, and I’m going to have to lead this demonstration on her to let you observe different gaits in the way they should look.” 

The guys watched in awe as Bitty mounted the saddle, ever so gracefully. He used a saddle simply for demonstration, but if it was casual, he’d usually ride the Trotters bareback. 

“Wow, Bitty. You are a true sensei,” Shitty tipped his ballcap in mock reverence. 

“Thank you, Shitty. Anyway, Daisy first is going to demonstrate the most used gait: the ambling gait. Listen carefully; it is faster than a walk, but slower than a canter, and always slower than a gallop. We usually go at this pace if we’re riding to the tool shed together or something. This is a four footed, broken, diagonal gait perfect for a smooth ride.” Glazed-over eyes surrounded him. “Y’all look lost,” Bitty laughed and rubbed Daisy’s neck, which Jack mimicked. What did he know? Maybe it calmed the horse while it wasn’t busy doing anything. “Watch carefully. I begin by squeezing the sides of my horse, gently with my feet. Jack, repeat what I do.” They both gave a little squeeze and got the horses walking. “Sometimes an extra pat will do to ‘change gears’ per say, or you can click your tongue. They’ll respond to all of that.” Eric walked around for a little bit to let them view how the walk should look.

“Like this?” Jack looked over to Eric, a little unsteady and clueless on what to do with the reins, but with more confidence than before.

“Yes, like that. What’s also important is that my horses are well trained and used to the same guy. So, make sure that as he or she walks, you move the reins gently in the movement of where their head bobs. This will get more natural as time passes. Now, Jack, I want you to give those reins a firm grasp.” He took a deep breath and held them visibly tighter. “Now, forget about Hockey for a second and just think about the horse. Controlling the horse with reins is pretty easy. If you want him to go left, give a little left tug, if you want right, give a right tug. Also, sort of lean towards where you want to turn, and you can also give em’ a little tap on the opposite side of where you want to turn.”

Bitty watched as Jack began to give the reins a little tug right, causing the horse to change course and walk forwards, he did it a few more times until the horse was repeating a circular step. “Well shit, shit, I’m doing it!” Jack actually smiled and his confidence grew tenfold. 

Eric smiled back, “That’s great. I hope everybody is really seeing this and paying attention because soon this will be you. Now we will commence the trot. So give your horse a squeeze, this one a little harder than the last, and he’ll pick up.” Bitty did it himself and nervously watched as Jack did. When Ace picked up, they both let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. “Sweet, okay see how you’re kinda being bounced around? Well, try and go up and hunker back down in tune with his trots. This may take a second or two to get a feel for. Sometimes they’ll give you more of a jog, which is faster, but you’ll get a feel for it later.”

Their mini audience watched on as Eric talked Jack through the motions. “Now we’re gonna canter them. This is the most difficult, as there is a fine line between a canter and a full gallop.” Bitty made them observe as he pulled the rein to slow Daisy’s trot to a half hault, and hitched up his outside leg back and squeezed. He immediately directed her around in a wider circle and yelled to Jack. “Now usually I would make you know the difference between all the types of canters, but if you know the motions, then you should be fine. Just don’t lose control, and you won’t have to worry about the other types at the moment.”

Jack tried to do exactly what Bitty instructed. He did just fine slowing the trot, but got kind of caught up in Bitty’s directions further on. He had too much pride to ask, and ended up just going for it and guessing. He remembered having to squeeze a little bit harder each time, and there was something about leaning back. So, Jack leaned back and landed a much-too-hard kick to Ace’s side, startling him into a full gallop and skipping all of the lead up. This type of progression throws both the horse and rider out of control. Jack tried to pull on the reins to make him stop, but it only caused Ace to whinny and jerk up higher, increasing speed.

“Fuck!” Jack screamed, getting Daisy into a fast enough gallop to chase after Jack, who was holding onto the pommel for dear life as the horse called the shots. A fatal mistake that could result in falling off and being trampled by a 1,000 pound animal. Not to mention the height of the fall, which would be about fifteen hands. (That’s six feet in normal people talk). 

He surged forwards and managed to keep Daisy in a run while pulling a rope from his waist belt and throwing it around Ace’s neck, bringing him to an abrupt stop. “Halt!” Bitty yelled, coercing the horse into calming down before dismounting Daisy and running over to get Jack off of Ace. He was sort of frozen in shock; however, Bitty really needed to get him off before Ace got riled up again.

“Holster, Shitty, get over here!” The two boys ran forward at Eric’s command and waited for instruction. “Come get Jack.” 

This time he allowed Bitty to assist him with getting off the horse, probably realizing the scare could cause his knees to buckle beneath him. He slowly helped Jack regain his gravity, then pushed him into the guys’ arms to lead him away. The dirt kicked up behind them as they shuffled away.

Eric closed his eyes hard and smacked the back of his own head, trying to cure the stupidity induced headache that was forming. For someone so afraid of horses, Jack really didn’t realize how dangerous they could be if they were mishandled like that.  
God damn.

He took each horse by a lead and led them over to the front of the barn to hopefully calm them down, and finish the lesson. Bitty planned on this to be an all day thing, and couldn’t let a mistake get in the way, no matter how irresponsible and idiotic it was.

He resisted the urge to choke someone and called forth Dex and Nursey. “Alright you two, why don’t you take Ace and Daisy. Just hold onto them for a second while I get some more.”

They nodded and pet the horses freely while Bitty ran off to take care of business. Jack was sat on the same bale of hay from before, this time accompanied by Shitty and Holster.

“I’m not gonna go over too much about how fucking idiotic that was, but c’mon. We’ve got to learn this fast, and I know I’m speeding up a process that usually takes years to fully master, but it can be done with enough care and precision. What I saw back there, was the completely and utter opposite. Just- don’t do it again. Please.” Bitty turned on his heel and tilted his head, signalling the men to follow him back over.

Again, they still had fourteen more hours of daylight ahead of them, and Bitty intended to use every last drop.


	4. The Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric struggles endlessly with Jack's incompetence, but it only causes their relationship to grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update, but on the bright side, this was a longer chapter. 10 pages in word! Again, thanks so much for the lovely comments, I'd love to respond, but then I'd have to keep doing it for all of them. But please continue to leave them because they make my day. Please don't kinkshame me.   
> Anyway, I hope this isn't going downhill, and people continue to enjoy it.   
> It's getting better, I pinky promise. 

The boys took to their tasks like fish to water. Well… all of them except Jack. When he asked them why he couldn’t handle it, they told him that Jack was smart, but Hockey got in the way of other things.

The first task they did was simple and straightforward: feed the animals.  
“Each of y’all grab a pail of the grass, hay, and pig feed.” They took care of the food for the animals that ate said grasses and hays, then gathered around the pig pen. “What we’ll do, is build up a running compost so there will always be pig food. Each of y’all take one of those small buckets and pour it in.” They all poured some compost into the trough, except Jack, who dumped a bucket of apples in. “No! Those weren’t compost, those were for the horses.” 

Jack bit his lip, “I thought they were-. Nevermind.”

“Jesus, just, go. Go. Somewhere else.” Jack put a hand on his forehead in frustration and waved Jack away. Bless his incredibly hopeless heart, Bitty thought.

Later on, the issue repeated itself. Bitty taught the boys how to quickly fix leaks in the polytube of a drip irrigation system. It was probably the easiest to fix, anyhow. Much easier than correcting a broken Ventury or Hydro-Cyclone. 

So, much like everything else, they all understood it and went to work on their own, occasionally shouting out questions. Eventually, they were across the field from Bitty looking for broken pipes by themselves.

Jack, in the meantime, was doing the opposite of helping. Bitty wasn’t even surprised. He had gotten maybe three correctly fixed until he got to a loose NRV valve on the main line. 

Bitty had his back turned, and was doing some more complicated fixings on the drippers, not far from Jack. But, when he suddenly heard, “Shit, shit, shit!” and felt water on the back of his neck, he whipped around. 

“Oh, I’ll be damned, Jack Zimmermann.” He ran over to where the NRV on the main line burst open, also noticing that the air valve was somehow spattering water. Eric took a deep breath. “Go, and let me take care of this. Ask Shits if you can help him. Maybe you’ll actually learn this time.”

Jack looked guilty when he slunk away. He noticed every day how tired Bitty seemed. He just wanted to help, not make it worse.

When he reached Shitty, he glanced haphazardly across the field to sneak a glance. Bitty was leaned over the large spray, soaking and frustratedly swiping water from his eyes as he cranked away with his wrench. Jack winced as a few NRV’s down the other lines began to one by one burst a little, water flooding the vegetation. 

They would have to start over completely on the section they had just did.

Bitty had never been more exhausted, even while tending to the whole farm himself. But a part of him told him that he couldn’t give up on the one person who seemed hopeless. He’d like to think that nothing was hopeless. So he held his head high and walked on through the wind and the rain.  
After the irrigation disaster, they did another round of horse lessons. Nobody said anything when Bitty was blank faced and quippy that evening. The guys gave Jack pats on the back as they walked by him, knowing how dejected his incompetence made him feel. He felt as though he wasn’t good at anything. Shitty, Holster, and Ransom knew that more cracks in Jack’s self esteem could be fatal. 

After riding lessons, everybody turned in for the night. Bitty said an off goodbye to the guys that were going to the guest cabin, and walked straight into his house ahead of Chowder and Jack. 

His mom and dad were sitting at the kitchen table, talking over coffee and laptop screens. “Hey Dicky, how was it?”

“Fine,” he retorted, continuing down the hallway to his room without stopping.

When Jack came inside to brush his teeth before bed, Bitty was in his bathroom, rinsing his sweaty face with water. He was gripping the side of the sink and staring at the dark circles under his plain brown eyes. Jack had opened the door as softly as he could, and slipped into their shared bathroom. He didn’t look up from the countertop.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It was stupid. He was stupid. Eric dried off his hands without looking at Jack either. He closed his bedroom door behind him a little too hard.

The thing that Jack didn’t realize, was that Eric wasn’t mad. He was worn. Sure, he was worn because of Jack, but it didn’t mean that he had any reason to be malicious towards him. Bitty just needed space and sleep.

The following morning, they didn’t rise until 8:00. Everyone else had been up and ready to go by 6:00, but went back to bed because Bitty never showed up. It was out of the ordinary, for sure.

“What should we do?” Nursey asked.

“I feel like he’ll be pretty pissed if he realizes that he’s slept in this much. ‘Getting behind on work’ and all that.” Dex tapped his foot on the wood floor of cabin.

“I think Jack should go wake him up.” Chowder chipped in.

“Where are his parents? Ask them.”

“No, they’re away a lot. I think they went to some farmers market at like four this morning.”

“Does this whole family have some hatred towards the beauty of sleep?” Ransom groaned in despair. 

“Back to what Chow said,” Holster said through a mouth of cereal, “he’s right. You go ahead and get him Jack. It makes most sense, since your room is backed up to his.”

“Wh- where’s the logic in that? I’m not just going to walk in there!” Jack furrowed his brows and looked at them like they were crazy.

“Oh, but you are,” condescended Ransom.

“Fine, Jack. Then you can deal with his attitude when he notices that the person who sleeps right near him didn’t bother to wake him up. See how that goes. We’ll go ahead and dig your grave.”

Jack threw himself back against the couch cushions like a child and mumbled, “he only taught you how to dig a grave for a small animal.” Everyone quietly stared at him, waiting for him to consent. “Fine!” 

Jack stood up with a disgruntled expression and spun out the door, practically stomping over to the house to fucking wake Bittle up. When he reached the door to Eric’s room, a wave of nervousness washed over him. It felt wrong to just… walk in. Especially after receiving the silent treatment the night before. 

He placed his hand on the silver handle and pushed it down as slowly as possible. The old door creaked open, but didn’t jostle Bitty. He was on his side in his bed, headphones tucked into his ears with an iPod on the other end. 

Jack could faintly hear the words, “how you’re gonna upgrade me, what’s higher than number one. You know I used to beat that block…” coming through. Bitty looked very happy and extremely passed out.

The blinds were shut, not allowing for the morning light to seep through. Jack tiptoed across the floor and stopped when he reached the edge of the bed. On the floor right in front of the bed was one copy of “Out” magazine, and another of some issue with a half naked, very muscular man on the front. Jack pretended that he didn’t see, for the sake of Bitty, but his cheeks burned in embarrassment. Jack felt like a voyeur. He crept closer and shook Bitty’s arm softly. 

The younger boy only sniffed and rolled a little the first time.

On the second try, he pushed a little harder, which startled Bitty into a sitting position. “Oh, fu- dad?” He didn’t look up, only frantically shoving the magazines under the bed and flicking the song on the ipod off as fast as he could. 

“No, no, sorry! It’s just me,” Jack whispered, looking at Bitty’s apple red face.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” he cocooned himself further into the blankets in mock self-protection.

“Nothing, it’s just… it’s 8:00 and we were wondering where you were-”

Eric completely ignored the previous situation with the magazines and Beyonce song, instead bolting out of bed and running to his closet.

“Oh damn, damn, dammit! Get out so I can get dressed, tell everyone I’ll be but five minutes. Thanks for getting me up. Next time don’t wait two hours though.”

Jack just nodded, even though Bitty couldn’t even see him, and slipped out the door. The taste in his mouth was bitter, like coffee. The floor felt cold beneath his toes. Jack desperately needed to smack a puck around for a few hours. The numbness in his toes reminded him of being on the ice. Jack went to his room to put on another pair of socks before heading back out.

The boys stood around, waiting for Bitty for a little over five minutes. He looked disheveled and not that much more rested before them, despite the extra hours of rest. “Sorry about the hold up y’all, I say let’s get started,” Bitty exclaimed with a smiled and singular clap. 

The day was a wash, rinse, repeat of the previous.

First, they trimmed the sheep and alpacas.

“Two person per animal, hold them like this,” he demonstrated, “Then you wanna stay about this distance away with the razor, otherwise they’ll end up hurt or naked.”

Leave it to Jack to shave too close, causing his and Chowder’s sheep to scare and run off. Though Bitty felt a little bit better when the sheep went rampant and knocked Jack in the knees, so he landed with his ass in the dirt.

Then there was milking the cows. It’s actually a quite strenuous job, but the guys got a kick out of it. 

“I’ve never touched so many tits at once,” Shitty laughed.

“They’re called teets, dumbass!” Holster shouted from a chair a few seats down.

Eric shook his head and yelled to everyone, “If y’all do well with this, then I’ll have ya’ll for dinner after riding lessons.”

“Pie!” Chowder shouted, milking his cow a little faster at the promise of one of Bitty’s five star pastries.

Jack was on a stool a seat down from Bitty, trying to milk the cow he was given. Instructions were basic, so Eric thought that he had finally given a foolproof job to Jack. However, this was not the case at all.

The cow mooed and used her hind legs to buck backwards, kicking Jack off of his stool. He grunted as he fell back on the floor, holding his face. Bitty rushed over to make sure he wasn’t severely hurt. Concussions could be pretty bad when caused by an animal’s hooves.

Bitty placed his forefinger and thumb around Jack’s chin and tilted his face upwards to inspect the damage. Blood was flowing from his nose excessively, but when he used his other hand to feel the bone, it didn’t feel broken. 

He thanked all the forces that be and took off his flannel, leaving him only in the wife-beater underneath. Bitty balled it up and pressed it to his face, which allowed Jack to stop the flow of blood.

“I’m not even gonna ask how you managed to cause that while simply milking a goddamn cow. You astound me, Jack Zimmermann.” Bitty shook his head, and this time laughed.

The day went on with the same small occurrences. They got increasingly subtler as time passed, but not by much. It was Jack that lowered the front of the Forage Harvester down too hard into the hay fields. It was Jack that despite his athleticism and godly muscles, managed to drop every bag he carried. It was Jack that messed up again and again and for some reason Bitty still didn’t give up hope. Here and there he would roll his eyes or yell at him in front of everyone. There was one particular time when he almost hit Chowder in the head while chopping wood:

“Well, Chow shouldn’t have been walking behind me, he saw that I had brought the axe up!” Jack gestured an angry hand towards Chowder, who was cowering behind everyone.   
Bitty balled up his fists at his sides. It couldn’t be clear if there were just trains in the distance or if there was steam and a train whistle shooting out of his ears. 

“Fair enough Jack, but I reminded y’all multiple times that you look behind your back every time because you can never be sure. People die on ranches all the time, and I will not let it happen on mine!” He threw down a pair of gloves and stormed away to get himself under control.

Jack stood there. Guilty. He really didn’t mean to upset Bitty. He didn’t mean to mess up every single direction he was given. It wasn’t his intention to be such a disappointment. The frustration boiled inside of him, concocting a growing stew of anger.

So it seemed to Bitty that it had to be something about Jack that could’ve caused this hopefulness, but it was also because something visibly changed in Jack. He knew that with everything he did on the ranch, he tried his absolute best. And, during the horse lessons at night, he blossomed more than any of the other guys. 

Jack did everything to become one with the horse. One time Eric had woken up early to paint the horse stables while it was still cool, only to find Jack outside, grooming the horses and practicing saddling them. He let himself watch on for a few minutes without interrupting them. Jack stroked a hand down Marvin’s nose and spoke to him as he brushed his mane and his side. 

As lessons progressed, so did Jack. It happened exponentially. It was definitely an experience to see how clumsy he was during the day, then to see the grace he had developed with the horse, at night. 

One particular evening around the end of the second week, Bitty found Jack while searching the stables. Jack was becoming a fine farm hand. Of course the rest of the guys could be trusted with certain tasks a little more, but Bitty was no longer extremely frustrated. Jack wasn’t perfect. But Bitty wasn’t haranguing him anymore for every mistake. He coughed, “Hey, Jack.”

Jack turned around from the horseshoe he was nailing into place. He was very focused on the angle and positioning. Bitty could honestly say that he was proud.  
He walked into the stall and pulled out a stool to sit on. “Those look great,” he added when Jack wouldn’t reply. 

It was Jack’s turn to offer the silent treatment. Bitty had been gruff and standoffish for the previous two weeks. Jack had worked his ass off to get to the point he was at. He was just a Hockey guy. A school guy. Not a farm guy. Though for some reason, he wanted to be a farm guy for Bitty. Jack hated the thought of being the center of his disapproval.

But it was hard to just go back and act like they were friends. “Thanks, Bittle,” was all the response he got. Jack went back to work on cinching the shoes, not looking up. 

Bitty couldn’t tell if he was just focused, or maybe angry. Probably a little bit of both. He understood.

“I was wondering if you wanted ride the stock horses with me,” he twisted his hands in his lap.

Jack stopped tapping and glanced upwards. “You want me to ride your level three horses with you,” he said, deadpan. 

Bits looked down, “you’re just a good horseman, and I have to move the cows, so I thought that maybe you and me could do it. We’d have to do it every night. I’d probably leave the other guys in the crop fields cause you’d be best fit for this job-.”

“Alright.”

“You’ll go?”

“I just said I would, didn’t I?” 

Bitty didn’t care that Jack was portraying aloofness towards him, because they were going to make an excellent team. He’d never had a good rider to go with. In all honesty, Bitty had always been alone. 

They set out in tandem to saddle and bridle the two stock horses together, western style. It was the first time Jack had tried it this way, and he’d done a marvelous job. Also in unison, they hopped up and swung a leg over to mount the animal. Jack tapped the horse’s side with his foot and leaned forward, letting it run up ahead of Bitty’s. 

“Hey! Wait up!” He gave his horse a little more of a start up, jolting her into motion. She slowed to trot when Bitty caught up with Jack. “I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve become a natural. I’m gonna be honest Jack, I thought you were kind of hopeless at the start.” Jack looked over to Bitty’s sunset lit face. His brown eyes had a kind of sparkle in them, that came with doing the thing he loved. If there was one thing on the farm Bitty would have trouble leaving, it was the horses. The warm air had the two boys feeling open and lethargic. It was quiet for a few moments. Jack persisted to not respond. “I’m sorry about how I behaved before. I swear I didn’t mean-.”

“It’s fine Bits, don’t worry about it,” Jack dished out a half-assed smile. “I know you just care a lot about your farm. You’re busy. I’m the same way with Hockey I think.” The horses clopped along beside each other. 

Bitty stared forwards, towards where the cows were grazing off in the distance. “Oh yeah?” He rubbed at a peeling piece of leather on the saddle.

“Yeah. Ever since I was born, Hockey has been my everything. I get a lot of shit for being too harsh on the frog- on the newcomers. But I guess I’m just like you,” he turned and smiled for real this time, however small, ”I just care a lot about what I do. Maybe a little too much…”

Eric didn’t press on. He had a feeling that Jack had unresolved tensions about something to do with the subject. It was hard for Eric to admit to himself that there may have been some tension when it came to the ranch work. He felt like he was living a double life, at times. But it had gotten easier to suppress. A lot of things had gotten easier to suppress. His already warm cheeks burned at the memory and possibility that Jack had seen his magazines that one morning. 

They rode in comfortable silence for a little while longer until they wrangled the cows. This was the fun part, which had Jack and Bitty laughing hysterically. They rode the horses up to one of their fastest speeds and had them run circles around the cows until they were coerced into following.

And yes, there were a fantastic team. It worked so much better to wrangle the cows while zooming in opposite directions, than to have Bitty alone, trying to do two things at once.

“So, you got any siblings? A girlfriend?” Bitty asked while they were walking up the small mountain to the next pasture.

“No, nothing like that,” was all he said. Then, he paused. “Can I tell you a secret? You don’t go to Samwell, so I think you’d be the best person to tell. I don’t want the guys to find out yet.” Jack bit his lower lip, eyes waiting.

“Yeah, no, I mean I won’t tell anyone. Go ahead.” Eric didn’t look at Jack, hoping that whatever it was, it would make it easier.

But when he finally said it, he wondered why it was such a big secret. “So, I’m joining an NHL team, the boys know I have an agent working with me on it, but they don’t know where I’ll be playing. I’ve been considering California teams, which made me even surprise myself because I’d never consider an expansion team, or so I thought. So I got kind of tied between the Aces, Schooners, and Falconers. Certain-- uh, people - think I shouldn’t play for the Falconers, and they have a lot riding on me for that, but… I think I’m going to end up in Providence.” Jack looked a little surprised to admit it to himself. 

Bitty didn’t understand why is was such a big deal, but if it meant a lot to Jack to tell him, then he was honored. “That’s great! I would say you shouldn’t do things just because other people expect them of you, but I wouldn’t be the best advocate,” he laughed. Jack looked confused.

“Can I tell you something now?”

Jack nodded. “Sometimes I think about applying for colleges. I’d have to pay for it myself, which I have no idea how I would manage, but it seems better than the ranch at times. And well… the ranch is all I’ve ever known. Living near Madison, that’s all anyone knows. It’s all my dad knows.” Bitty stared anywhere but into Jack’s eyes.

“Hey,” he beckoned Bitty’s glance.

He looked.  
“I think that’s great. Maybe we’ll make a pact. A promise the we won’t live our lives for other people. And Bits, you can always find a friend in me.”

A friend. How did he deserve that? Bitty hoped that Jack didn’t notice how he was looking at him as if he’d hung the stars. Jack held out his pinky finger, guiding the horse closer to Bitty’s own. He lifted his own, much smaller, pinky and let it wrap around Jack’s. A symbol of their promise.

They finished leading the cows up the mountain over an hour later. It was a long process, due to the fact that cows are awfully slow. In that space of time, the two chatted about anything and everything, while ambling down the hill. Jack showed Bitty some of his French, making their second promise that night, that he would teach him French some day. (Which transitively made it a promise that they would see each other after the summer came to an end. Bitty couldn’t tell why he liked that idea so much). Bitty asked Jack to tell him about Samwell and about the kinds of classes he could take.

Jack, was amazing. He made it sound wonderful, and included classes he thought Bitty might like. He said that there were food classes left and right. He told him about his favorite courses, as well as his least favorites. About fun professors and horror-film-esque professors, and just went on and on. It was the most Eric had ever seen Jack speak all at one time. 

But Eric could tell from the light in his eyes as he spoke, how much Jack loved his friends, learning, and especially (obviously), Hockey. Eric himself, was passionate about the ranch to a certain degree, but he wanted to be able to talk about something the way that Jack did. He wanted to care about something to that degree. He didn’t really have friends, and his relationship with his dad was uncomfortable, since they didn’t have much in common. As for hobbies, he had none other than baking. His mom loved it, but his dad thought that it was, “a little strange for a grown boy to like to bake pies so much.” Eric’s stomach churned a bit at the memory.

Jack snapped him out of his thoughts by shooting him a mischievous look. It made his heart swell. “Race me?”

The blue eyed boy didn’t wait for a response, instead gaining speed with the horse and running off ahead. Bitty bit back a giggle and leaned forwards, racing up behind him.

Even though Jack got a head start, Bitty still won by a long shot, zipping past Jack early on in their little game. Hey, just because he admitted that Jack got good, didn’t mean it was even feasible that he could surpass Bitty in skill.

When they reached the stables - in a much more timely manner than the ride up - they laughed while removing the gear from the horses and getting them situated in their stables.

“That was fun. Will you come with me next time?”

“I’ll come whenever you want.” Jack smiled. He obviously didn’t mean it that way, but Eric’s brain took it very differently. His cheeks flushed, and he looked away.

“Alright Bittle, I’m sweating buckets. I’m gonna tell the guys that they can go in, and just go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for um… listening to me.” He began to walk down the aisle, giving Eric a lingering pat on the shoulder.

“No problem Jack, g’night.” Eric gave a wimpy wave as Jack turned his back out the door. When he was out of sight, Eric leaned up against one of the horses and stroked its mane, exhaling a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in.

He touched his lips and whispered to himself, “I’m gay.” It was the first time he admitted it to himself. Then he added, “I’m gay, and I’ve got a big, honkin’ crush on Jack Zimmermann.”


	5. The Bon-kegster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daddy issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horrible garbage person. You guys leave such lovely comments and I don't update for a month.  
> I promise It won't be like this! I blame it on my awful English professor and re-watching Grey's Anatomy.  
> Anyway, I'm still set to keep going, and I know its going slow. But trust me, the action is coming soon (;  
> Hang in there, thank y'all for the kind words. They keep me going!

“Dear Lord, we’d like to bless this food that will nourish our bodies. We pray that everyone living in sin will see your light. We also pray that all these boys will continue to grow while working the ranch. We rejoice in your solidarity. We praise you, our lord who art in heaven. Amen.”

Awkward “Amens” resounded around the table. Everyone dropped each others’ hands and began to dig into the food: smoked brisket courtesy of Coach Bittle, as well as rolls, creamed corn, mashed potatoes, and fried okra made by specially by Mrs. Bittle.

“So, what do y’all boys think?” Mrs. Bittle asked, referring to the food.

“Momma, I told you but a million times, this isn’t a good idea. Them Northerners simply don’t understand southern cooking.” Bits clucked his tongue and shook his head. His accent was stronger around his parents.

“It’s really good actually Mrs. Bittle. Thank you!” Nursey said, politely.

She beamed. Anyone complimenting her food, was champion of her heart. Eric rolled his eyes and scooped some more creamed corn onto his own plate.

Chowder made a face and gagged at one of the things he was swallowing, causing everyone to laugh. “What was that about?” Eric patted him on the back.

“No offense, Mrs Bittle… but what in the he- what did I just eat?” he wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve and took a sip of coke to wash it down. “It looked so good ‘cause it was fried, but it fooled me.”

“Oh! That’s the fried okra. It’s one of the foods that’s more of an acquired taste. No hard feelings, sweet pea.” Chowder forgot about the gross food and beamed at the pet name like a newly adopted son.

“So, uh, Mr. Knight,” Coach Bittle coughed, “what’s your plan after you get your bachelor’s?”

“Well, I’m going into law, so I plan on staying up in Massachusetts to go to Harvard,” Shitty hated saying it. If he had anything to defend, it was that he wasn’t a fucking prep.

Coach Bittle furrowed his eyebrows, “That’s a tough school, son. You sure you can land something like that?”

Everyone was uncomfortably quiet. Bitty stared in horrified silence at his father’s inappropriate behavior and watched as his mom placed a hand on his arm, “Richard,” she scolded lightly. He just shrugged her off and waited for Shitty’s answer.

“Yes Sir. I actually just recently got accepted. I’ll be going there after this summer.”

Coach Bittle didn’t congratulate him. He didn’t apologize for being incorrect. What did he do? He laughed. He leaned back in his chair and chuckled. Nobody really knew what to do.

“Wow, I can’t believe we’ve got a Harvard boy tending the ranch down here in Georgia.” 

Nobody else was laughing. Shitty was probably the one who looked like he cared the least, while also being the one who cared the most. He’d always been indecisive about what he wanted to do with his life, being passionate about so many things. He had finally found what worked for him. His place. Nobody could take that away.

“Actually,” Eric spoke up. His father looked at him as if he was one word away from crossing a major line, “as much as I’ve never been too gung-ho about people from the North, these guys have changed that. They’re excellent workers, Coach. They’re highly educated, can do all of the grunt work, and still understand how a farm works.” 

Coach Bittle had a stare down with his son. Jack glanced over at Bitty’s small face. God, he could see the fear in his eyes. He understands what it’s like to have a father that puts fear in your eyes.

“Well I’m just sure they are. But if you’s gonna work on a farm, then you don’t need school. These boys ‘round here come to school for football practice and then go home to work their own ranches, and they’re just fine. They don’t waste time bitin’ off more than they can chew. But you, Eric Richard Bittle, sit around here whining about going to college when you have everything anyone could ever want right on this farm. But you gonna keep complainin’, aren’t ya? And you’re jes’ gonna keep baking pies or fantasizing about figure skating when you could’ve got your ass out there to do something boys are supposed to do at your age, like Football or… hell, even Ice Hockey. I’m tired of our own neighbors asking me why my son isn’t out on the field while I’m coaching.”

Eric looked just about ready to cry. He looked so small, curled in upon himself. He had his lower lip tucked between his teeth and was staring down long and hard at his fists on his kitchen table.

Suzanne stood up from the table and dared raise her voice at her husband, “Why don’t you just leave us to cleaning up, Richard.” 

He grumbled something under his breath, threw down a flannel cloth against the table, and sulked out of the room. Everyone at the table sat there, staring at their plates and picking at their food.

Eric rose from the table and wordlessly bolted for his own bedroom. Jack was just about to get up after him, but Shitty laid a hand on his chest.

“C’mon Jack, why don’t you let me talk to him.”  
Jack nodded, letting Shitty move past him and after Eric, himself. He tapped twice on the door, “Little Bittle? You in there, man?”

Eric sniffled. His voice found its way through the door, “Shitty?”

“In the flesh,” he replied.

“Just you?”

“Just me.”

After a moment, Shitty heard the door unlock with a ‘click’. He twisted the knob and let himself in, shutting the door quietly behind himself. 

Eric looked miserable, curled up on the side of the bed in his blankets, face red with tears. Shitty pulled him up into his side and tucked his head over Bitty’s.

“I’m sorry about the w-way my father treated you,” Bitty mumbled.

Shitty scoffed, “Don’t be fuckin’ sorry about that. I’m not worried in the slightest about what was said to me. I’m worried about you… Talk about it?”

“I don’t-” sniffle, “don’t know if I can.” Eric swiped an arm across his runny nose, burying his face deeper into Shitty’s side.

“Well, if you don’t wanna talk, then I will. Your dad wants you to be some macho bro that plays sports? Well, it doesn’t exist. I play college hockey and it’s the queerest yet most homophobic sport on the continent-.”

“I didn’t say that I was gay,” Eric looked up at him fearfully.

“That’s not what I’m getting at.” Shitty ran a hand through his ‘flow’, and continued, “what I’m trying to say is that your dad wants you to be something that doesn’t exist. So even if you weren’t who you are, which is an amazing dude by the way, then you still wouldn’t be exactly what he is asking for. I know that you’re aware of the fact that he’s totally wrong; about college, about playing fucking sports, and about what you can do with your goddamn life. It’s up to you Bits. Don’t let someone else take a shit on your parade.”

Eric stayed silent, then muttered, “Shitty?”

Shitty looked down at Eric’s blonde head. “Yeah?”

“I’m gay.”

Shitty just pulled him closer and ruffled a hand into his hair. Eric burst right back into tears again. Now this was the first time he admitted it out loud, to another person.

He continued to cry, but finally opened up. “But my dad’s kinda right. I’m nothing but a little pansie. I am different from the other guys. Sometimes I just want to up and leave. Go to college and never come back, but I know I couldn’t do that. I’d need money and… I just can’t keep this from my dad for my whole life,” he paused, “especially if I end up with someone. They deserve to meet my parents.”

Shitty continued to stroke his hair and listen attentively. “Then you wait, and even though you may never be ready, when the right moment comes, and it will, you tell them. But look, I know we haven’t been here too long, but there’s always family wherever the Samwell Hockey team is. As much as Northerners suck, according to you, nobody is going to judge you up there. In Massachusetts, you don’t have to pretend that you give a single damn about cattle ranching and Kenny Chesney.”

Eric nodded his head solemnly, and maybe let out a single giggle. Just one. Shitty recognized that it was complicated. He recognized that one little speech wouldn’t fix everything. 

Shitty continued, “whatever you do; however, keep in mind that you don’t need your father’s acceptance to be happy. You’ll learn this later on. But also… whatever you choose to do, for whatever reason, you’ll succeed at it all. I don’t come across a lot of people like you, Bittle.”

Shitty sat with Bitty like that for a while, just letting him get some attention from someone else; someone he could trust. Shitty patted him on the back and left the room shortly after, leaving Eric to sleep. When he exited the room, everyone looked as if they’d been waiting. Waiting for something. Like maybe the room would blow up with Eric in it.

Jack grabbed Shits by the elbow and reeled him in, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah Bro, don’t worry about it. He was just shaken up.”

“He told me about wanting to go to college. I didn’t realize his dad knew too,” Jack looked down, feeling useless. He wasn’t able to protect Bitty. Why did he feel a consuming need to protect him? He wanted to be the one to make sure that nobody ever made him storm from the dinner table again. Not after he stood up for them. Not after he was disrespected by his own father.

Shitty gave him a pat on the back too. “Go to bed man, I’ll see ya in the morning.”

All the rest of the guys were looking on, helping Mrs. Bittle clean and package up dinner. They were trying to talk as if they didn’t just take part in the most horrendous family dinner to exist. On their way back to the guest cabin, Nursey and Dex walked side by side, talking idly. “Thank goodness Bitty’s parents are driving up to Louisiana tomorrow morning. If I had to spend another second with Bittle’s ultra-conservative Dad, I think I would’ve lost it.”

Nursey nodded back, affirming that he would’ve surely done the same.

The next day, Bitty was back to his normal self. Everyone gathered in the kitchen in the morning and had homemade biscuits and jam. They sat around the table eating, and Ransom and Holster took their chance to announce some rather important news.

“Order in this house!” They stomped their feet in unison. Everyone grew quiet, knowing that it was their cue to do so. “So, we have spoken to Captain of the Ranch, Sir Eric Bittle, who has told us that tonight we may party!”

The room cheered, and Ransom was quick to gesture his hands, a sign to lower their volume. “The cabin will serve as the Haus. And, we will pregame there, then stumble down the hill behind it to have a bonfire. It may not be a kegster, but there will be tub juice! Bittle, do you have a bath tub?”

“Yes, wh-”

“Excellent! May the party commence!”

The cheering happened again, whooping and hollering from all around the room. Bitty didn’t realize how much they really needed this. Maybe parties to college kids were like insulin to a diabetic. Vital. He made eye contact with Jack from across the room, they raised their eyebrows at one another and shook their heads, as if to say, “what a room of hooligans, and to think that we are the only sane ones.” 

The boys went absolutely wild, jumping up from their seats at the table to surprise Bitty by picking him up, shouting, “Bittle! Bittle!”

Eric smiled as wide as he ever had, and asked himself why he never even given them a chance when he first discovered they would be his ranch hands. He was tremendously grateful for the men.... boys standing before him… or rather, lifting him off the ground.

Speaking of that, “alright, alright boys. Let me down.”

They gently set him down, giving him rough side hugs. This should make his dad happy. Eric had never had “bros” until that moment. Weren’t straight guys supposed to be “bros” with everyone? Whatever.

Bitty did his usual hand clap and set forth to kill everyone’s buzz. “Alright ya’ll. Work now, party later. But Rans forgot to mention that I’m lettin’ us off early tonight.” Their expressions were still happy. Bitty had successfully softened the blow with his new plan.

“‘Swawesome!” sang Chowder, running through the door wearing jeans and a flannel. Bitty had really taught them so well. 

The sun was especially hot that day. Mid July wasn’t something that should be messed with. Luckily, having other boys working gave Eric more excuses to go inside and grab refreshments for everyone… which may have also allowed him a second or two of air conditioning.

He walked over to the crops where Dex was manning the machinery. Eric was sticking to getting some heavy duty repairs done, as well as a bit of cow milking and egg collecting. The smaller fields also required some manual labor in order to be properly cared for, so Jack and Nurse had been on that all morning.

“I brought y’all some water. Please drink up, I won’t have you faintin’ out here. The nearest emergency room is a half hour away.”

Everyone gladly took a water, Jack receiving one last. When Eric placed the bottle into his hand, he immediately screwed off the cap and tipped it back, downing half the bottle in one swig. Bitty kind of couldn’t help but stare at his adam’s apple bob when he drank. 

Something indiscernible stirred inside of him.

Jack nudged Bitty’s shoulder once the bottle had been finished off. “Should you really be criticizing us about our eating and drinking habits?” he smiled a little but Bitty didn’t really get it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Maybe we should be the ones making you eat some more protein is all.” He shrugged, glancing at Bitty out of the corner of his eye while waiting for a reaction.

Bittle scoffed, “What? I’m more built than all of y’all combined. You’ve got nothing on these babies.” He raised up his small, but muscular arms and shoved them into Jack’s view.

“Can’t take a chirp, Bittle?”

“A chirp? Mr. Zimmermann, I’m pretty darn sure the only things that chirp on this ranch are the birds.”

“Oh, sorry, I guess I shouldn’t be using Northerner talk. In Hockey it means a tease or general trash talk, you know? Like chirping someone is the same as messing around with them.” Jack brushed a piece of hay off of his pant leg and squeezed the hammer he was holding tightly in his hand.

Bitty backed away from him to go back to hammering in a fence post. “I learn more and more every day with you people.”

Jack didn’t reply.

The boys worked extra hard all day, so by the time it was about 6:30, they retired to the cabin. Bitty had baked a surplus of several different types of pies, as well as some food they could snack on. Shitty drove out to the closest liquor store and picked up all of the supplies for his famous “tub juice,” so they were pretty much set.

Everyone was sat around the living room in the cabin house, drinking a beer while some kickstarted their misery by downing a red solo cup of tub juice… or two… or five. After Bitty chugged his first cup, he couldn’t tell if he should smile or grimace. The taste was like a cross between battery acid and cinnamon? Does that even make sense? “What the hell is this?” Bitty turned to Shitty and questioned.

All Shitty did was mime locking his lips and throwing away the key. Eric went over to him solely to push him, which resulted in him getting pulled in under the man’s arm and into his side on the floor.

“Umph!” Bitty cried, falling into a sitting position. Dex sat down on the armchair next to them, and Nursey walked over and perched on the armrest beside him. Chow outdid himself in the first hour and was already laying across the floor, complaining about his alcohol intake. Shitty warned him. He invented tub juice for goodness sake.

Rans and Holtzy filled in on the other side and Jack sat off in a corner, sipping at a Coke and staring distantly at the wall. He would go back and forth between doing that and joining in on the conversation.

They didn’t exactly talk about much. But they also talked about anything and everything. Soon enough everybody in the room (not including Jack) was piss drunk and laying lazily on the floor. Bored.

“Fuck this! Where the fuck is the bonfire, let’s goooooo!” Shitty fistpumped.

Everybody in the room finally remembered the initial plan and stood up, wrapping blankets around their shoulders and trailing outside to where they had planned to do their fire. Bitty did the honor of getting the flame started, which earned a chorus of “Hu-rah!” once the fire took.

The boys reformed a circle and curled up around the flickering beast before them. This time around, Jack came to sit by Bitty, which kind of made his heart pick up. And it just about beat right out of his chest when Jack dropped his own jacket around Bitty’s shoulders, noticing that Eric was getting affected by the nighttime chill. Bitty smiled in thanks, earning back a similar expression. 

Eric decided that he really liked to make Jack smile. It was a rare look on him, so it felt special to be the one that caused it to grace his visage. 

“-Anyway, Lards and I were sitting on the roof throwing gummy bears at the Lax bros, and one of them tries chucking one of those stupid rubber balls back at us, little did they know that I keep hockey sticks on the roof. I grab one of those suckers and smack the ball right back at him. Bro can’t even be fast enough to catch it in his little net stick. Jackass.”

Everyone laughed, but Bitty didn’t really get it. “Who is ‘Lards’?” he asked.

Nursey answered, “Just like, the team manager but also Shitty’s best friend or… whatever.”

“Yeah she’s in a modern art program right now in New York,” Holster added.

“Oh. Ok,” Bitty nodded, pretending like he really did understand when he actually didn’t. The conversation continued, and not long into it Jack’s phone began to ring. Bitty watched him out of the corner of his eye. Jack glanced down at the glowing screen of his phone and sighed. The look seemed nothing short of distressed. He pulled himself up from a seated position and excused himself from the group, rushing over behind the massive woodpile near the bonfire.

Nobody blinked an eye; not even when Bitty got up and followed after him.

And no, it was not an intrusion of personal space because Bitty is a fine, southern, gentleman. He is obligated to do this.

Jack was on his phone, shifting from foot to foot and speaking in a language that sounded like… French? Bitty took French his sophomore year, yet Jack wasn’t saying anything along the lines of “bonjour” or “je suis”, which is about all the french Bitty retained. 

He heard in a hushed voice, “Papa, vous savez que j’ai besoin de ca.” Pause. “Je serais normalement inquiet aussi, mais… Je ne suis pas.” Pause. “Parce que j’aime ca.” An even longer pause. But this time the phone on the other end was silent for a few seconds before Jack spoke. His words became more clipped this time. “Pourquoi? Pourquoi, demanderez-vous? Parce que je suis mauvais en elle, et je ne recois pas tout le monde me dit que je suis un echec a cause de cela. Personne ne me regarde avec mepris papa.” Pause. “Non.” Pause. “Desole.” Pause. “C’est l’angoisse, je viens… je vais vous parler plus tard. Au revoir.” 

He hung up.

Bitty stood back, but when Jack turned around he saw him standing there he jolted a little, “Oh Bitty! I uh, I didn’t see you there. Um… don’t worry about that. It’s nothing. Really.”

“Jack, I never made it past my mandatory French credits, but I could still sense a little… negativity, per say.” It was Bitty’s turn to pause and stare down at his shoes. “That was your dad,” he said.

“It was.” Jack scratched the back of his neck. He bit his lip painfully hard, words choked up and small, “It was."


End file.
